Keystone (Crossbreed #1)(93)

With a second gunman coming at me, I raced toward the stairwell, and just as he began firing, something slammed against my back and pinned me to the wall. At least seven more shots went off, making me shrink where I stood. A few of them struck the wall on either side of me. Suffocated and confused, I spun around and realized Christian was shielding me from the attack—using his body like a cage, his forearms pressed firmly against the wall, his head low. He was taking bullets for me. One right after the other until clicks sounded from an empty cartridge.

“Dammit,” the man hissed.

I looked up at Christian with wide eyes. It took me a second to process that he had just saved me from being turned into swiss cheese. I released a shaky breath, my eyes fixed on the blood oozing from his right arm, neck, and God knows where else. With a trembling hand, I touched my chest and stomach, searching for injuries that weren’t there. The bullets must have lodged inside him, perhaps ricocheting off his bones.

He eased back a little and grimaced.

“Why did you do that?” I whispered.

Christian lightly shrugged. “Old habits die hard.”

He stepped aside, appraising the gunman. It was then that I recognized Declan—the man who had tortured me with a hot iron.

“That one’s mine,” I said through clenched teeth.

A dark look flickered in Christian’s eyes. “I just took a Hail Mary of bullets for you—twelve to be exact. You’re fresh out of weapons, and you want to go for the big arseface who’s twice your size?”

“That’s the man who burned my face.”

I thought Christian would stand aside with a sweep of his arm and let me get my revenge, but his fangs descended, and I’d never seen him more menacing than in that moment.

Christian inclined his head and dramatically turned, stalking toward the man who’d just loaded another clip. He fired at Christian, each shot resounding in my head and making me jump.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Christian walked coolly toward him and then snapped the man’s wrist, the gun falling to the floor. Declan wailed in pain, unable to escape the Vampire’s iron grip.

Christian seized the man by the throat and lifted him off the ground for a few breathless seconds. The second Mage took off as soon as he realized they were up against a Vampire.

“So you’re the one who likes to torture women.”

Christian spoke in a calm voice, one that told me he was charming the man. “Do me a favor and light a nice warm fire. I want the flames high, and be sure to place the same instrument in there as you used on Raven. You and I are going to have some fun. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

The man coughed for air when Christian set him down. He turned toward the fireplace and put a log on the grate.

I dragged my eyes away from him and stared daggers at Christian.

He chuckled, his voice throatier than before. “Worry not, lass. Sometimes you have to lie to get them to cooperate.”

I picked up the flashlight and shone it on him. “You’re still bleeding.”

He glanced down. “Aye. It’s slower to heal the more blood we lose. There’s only one thing that’ll speed it along.” He lifted his gaze to my neck, and I stepped back.

“Then slurp on him,” I suggested, nodding at Declan.

Christian gave me a crooked smile. “I have other plans for that one. Besides, it doesn’t work as well unless it’s from a Vampire.”

“I’m not letting you drink my blood.”

He clapped a hand on my shoulder, his voice raspy. “That’s all right. You’re only half Vampire anyhow, so it probably wouldn’t work. Never you mind. The bullets left over will work themselves out… eventually,” he said, laying on the guilt.

Christian took a seat on a small stool while the Mage stoked the fire.

Claude rounded the corner, blood staining his mouth. He looked like a fallen angel with his beautiful features and savage eyes. He flared his nostrils and surveyed the scene before disappearing to search the outer rooms.

I thought about those split seconds when Christian reacted like a bodyguard—my bodyguard—shielding me from an onslaught of bullets. Was I overreacting? He could have just let the Mage take me out, and that was exactly what I’d expected from a man like Poe.

But why didn’t he?

I drifted toward him, a rattling sound coming from his chest each time he drew in a deep breath.

One swallow of blood; it seemed like such a little thing. Still standing, I straddled his legs and cupped his face in my hands. Christian’s eyes rose to meet mine. His shoulders were hard beneath my fingertips, and before one of us said something that would change my mind, I bent over and turned my head away, feeling the brush of his short beard against my neck.

His breath heated my skin in the place his lips touched.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered unconvincingly.

“Take what you need.”

His fangs grazed along my neck, inviting and deadly. My heart slowed down, beating strong, and something flickered between us—a sharp desire that made me lean into him. His hand briefly slid between my legs before he pushed me back.

Christian’s dark gaze fixed on my bleeding arm, and he lifted it, placing his mouth on the wound and gulping down the blood. This felt way less erotic, and all that sexual tension that had sparked up between us melted away as I watched him licking my arm.